


Fancy

by Kindassunshine



Category: The Riot Club
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:16:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2430197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kindassunshine/pseuds/Kindassunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Chandelier swinging evening in for the Riot Club... but despite it's obvious allurements George isn't so sure he wants to be in the fast lane anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fancy

**Author's Note:**

> May have missed the moral heart of this film...
> 
> And also um... just so you don't get a shock - I've used the c-word in this.. so look out for that :D 
> 
> Anyway Enjoy!

A distant chime of quarter to eleven echoed off the stone arches as George trotted back from dinner. The cool wind lifting his hair smelt of smoky, late autumn decay. Ahead of him two young women were laughing as they walked back in their gowns over fluttering evening dresses.  
‘George!’ Harry roared, appearing from a shadowed passageway and slinging an arm over his shoulder, ‘come along now, duty calls.’ Bemused George allowed himself to be hustled from the quad towards – he recognised a moment later – James’ digs. Harry was still in his fencing gear and with his sabre trapped between them it was quite difficult to walk.  
‘Actually, Harry, your sword’s poking me in the leg,’ he complained as they clattered over cobblestones.  
‘Oh, sorry,’ the other boy shrugged, ‘avoiding Eckhart like the plague, so had to make a dash for it.’ He unbuckled his scabbard handing it over with aplomb. George accepted the sabre with a cheerful salute as Harry eyed him.  
‘Why’s your gown inside out by the way?’ he asked, loosening his shirt at the neck.  
‘Is it?’ George said, almost tripping as he peered at the garment over his shoulder, ‘I can never tell, black all over, you know.’  
‘Mmm, no definitely is, I can see the label,’ Harry told him, tugging George’s gown off and helping him put it on correctly.  
‘Yeah, nice,’ Harry grinned, pulling on the sleeve appreciatively, ‘did James actually call you? Don’t think he knew you had a dinner.’  
‘Hmm?’ George frowned as they arrived at James’ building, ‘oh, I doubt it… come to think of it I must have left the damn thing at Artie’s… or was it Benji… left anyway, hadn’t I?’  
‘Oi Villiers!’ came a shout as Toby and Ed bounced up the staircase behind them. ‘Oh! Sorry Balf didn’t see you, how was chem?’ Ed asked, spotting George waving under Harry’s arm.  
‘Apparently I’ve been going to the wrong lectures or something, so I’ll have to retake…’ George grimaced, ‘only this term I think, the prof sorted it all out with Daddy anyway.’ Ed and Harry exchanged glances; contemplating, not for the first time, the minor miracle of George arriving at any lecture.  
‘Do you know what this is about?’ Toby muttered to Harry seriously as they ascended, ‘Dinner’s not for another couple of weeks. Unless it’s the grasshopper’s birthday?’  
‘No, mate his birthday’s in January,’ Harry shrugged as Toby raised his eyebrows.  
‘Alright,’ Toby laughed, ‘did you realise you were serious, has he let you kiss him yet, huh Villiers?’  
‘Fuck you,’ Harry snorted, ‘anyway, Leighton’s just checking in. No drama, yeah?’  
‘What’re you talking about?’ George asked as they reached the landing.  
‘Leighton! We’re not late are we?’ Toby called, spotting their leader in the darkness of his landing. A fat bar of yellow light lit James in high contrast, as he flipped back fair hair and waved them into his room with a harried expression. George grinned at him as he passed. James winked back, face relaxing for a moment, before making a muttered reply into the phone trapped between his shoulder and ear. He was doing an awkward combination of talking, smoking and scrolling through a tablet. George heard him confirm a date as he wondered in behind Harry, Ed and Toby. He had always liked James’ room very much; it was like returning to the 17th Century. Silhouetted in the light from an open fire, Guy and Dimitri were flopped like matching book ends on the button back sofa. Sat at James’ desk, silent in the semidarkness, was Alistair Ryle.  
‘You made it alright then,’ Harry grinned, striding over to him and holding out a hand. Alistair took it with a shy smile. George shook hands too, Alistair’s palm pleasingly firm against his, before going to sit cross-legged in front of the hearth; mellow heat against his back. Alistair regarded him, dark eyes large beneath heavy brows; his intensity made George nervous. He didn’t look back; trying not to think about a conversation last week the ended in Guy asking Hugo if he thought Alistair was good looking.  
‘Oh look at Georgie, all grown up!’ Guy exclaimed, noticing George’s attire for the first time. George smiled: ‘had a college dinner, didn’t I?’  
‘Oh, did we drag you away?’ Guy asked unrepentantly.  
‘No, mate,’ Harry chuckled before George could answer, ‘found him wondering in the quad.’ Dimitri and Guy laughed.  
‘Where’s Hugo?’ Toby demanded indignantly, sitting between the two boys on the sofa.  
‘Still at home, mate,’ Guy told him, dropping his legs over Toby’s lap, ‘trouble with the fam.’  
‘Fuck that,’ Harry grunted, removing a pile on folders from an armchair and sitting in it.  
‘Isn’t it though,’ Guy agreed with a snort. James came back in, stalking across the room.  
‘Thank you,’ he muttered, accepting another cigarette from Alistair. The occupants of the room watched silently as James put the cigarette between his lips and lit it. George could see the firelight reflected on the curling AR inscribed on the golden lighter.  
‘Mate, you turning into a chain-smoker?’ Ed asked from the arm of the sofa.  
‘Yeah, mate,’ James sighed, ‘if I have to tell one more prick in a suit what type of fucking biscuit I am, I’m going postal.’ George chuckled with the rest, ignoring the sweet crease by Alistair’s mouth when he smiled. James’ eyes flicked over to George, backlit by the fire, and raised an eyebrow: ‘oh, were you at college tonight, I’m an idiot, aren’t I?’  
‘Don’t know what you’re talking about,’ George grinned, ‘just felt like dressing up.’  
‘Yeah, savage,’ Guy chuckled, ‘we should go out in club regs sometime, that’d be a laugh.’  
‘You got a bottle?’ Toby asked cheerfully, ‘dry as a bone over here.’  
‘Oh, you know, I haven’t,’ James frowned remembering, tugging open the bottom draw of his desk hopelessly, ‘got cleared out last inspection, says I can have it back at Christmas.’  
‘Fuck,’ Toby sighed.  
‘Never fear,’ Guy declared hopping up and triumphantly pulling his jacket off a pile of paper crates stacked inauspiciously in the corner.  
‘Dear god, what is that?’ Ed asked bouncing up to assess the situation, followed by James.  
‘Hit the offie, mate,’ Guy grinned at James, who looked vaguely disgusted, ‘Me and Dims got as many as we could carry.’ For a moment James seemed to be calculating alternatives but then: ‘oh fuck it.’ He shrugged, ripping into the topmost crate and tossing cans at random. George caught two, ducking a third, handing one to Dimitri who wrinkled his nose. James downed his first standing before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  
‘Gentlemen,’ he said, selecting a second can and cracking it open before holding it aloft as easily as a champagne flute. ‘To absent friends,’ he spoke resonantly. They all lifted their cans and drank. Dimitri put his down quickly.  
‘God that’s vile,’ James laughed, crushing the can in one hand and throwing it hard into the fire.  
‘Well, Jamie, host’s meant to provide the booze,’ Guy smirked, tapping a finger on his lips, ‘club rules.’ James picked up another can before squashing between Toby and Guy.  
‘I’ll piss down your throat if you like,’ he offered, shifting to get comfortable.  
‘That might actually taste better,’ Dimitri grumbled.  
‘I rather like it,’ George said cheerfully to no one in particular. Alistair smiled at him sipping felinely. They settled for a moment into easy silence. ‘Oh wait, I’ve got something!’ Ed announced suddenly, going for his leather satchel and pulling out a plastic bag. As he set it on the table before the sofa the rest of the boys stared.  
‘Christ, Eddie,’ Guy gasped, ‘have you heard the phase ‘with intent to supply’?’  
‘Don’t be a twat,’ Ed rolled his eyes, ‘I’m only holding onto it for Rolers anyway.’  
‘You’re holding it for Rolers?’ Guy snapped, glancing James, ‘what is this, fucking Grange Hill?’  
‘Do I look like the stop-and-search type, hmm?’  
‘I don’t want to be in the paper again,’ Guy muttered, ‘my father-’  
‘Boo! Not interested,’ Harry broke in, adding; ‘might take the edge off the taste of rat piss, just saying, Leighton.’ They all looked to James.  
‘You trash my room and I will cut you, no jokes, ’he warned, giving each of them a hard look. He bumped shoulders with a giggling Toby before moving over to his desk searching beneath the books piled up, finally extracting a square of mirror the size of his spread palm. As James set the mirror on the coffee table George crawled forward mutely opening the bag carefully and using Dimitri’s platinum card to cut lines. They took turns.  
‘Come on, Al,’ Guy sat back sniffing. Alistair moved closer, kneeling next to George and lowering his head. George observed Alistair with an almost inappropriately sensual thrill, the other’s closeness like damp breath on his skin.  
‘You know, if we’re talking club rules,’ Toby piped up, pointing at Alistair who blinked innocently, ‘by rights the grasshopper shouldn’t be here.’ The room turned to gawk at Alistair, who glanced at Harry nervously, then at James. James peered at him considering, then looked around at all of them.  
‘He’ll have to do a forfeit to stay,’ James said after a moment, earning a wicked laugh from the rest of the boys, ‘what do you think, Harry? He’s your puppy.’  
‘I’m shit at forfeits,’ he complained.  
‘I think he should suck one of us off,’ Toby declared gleefully to several groans; dark eyes widened minutely.  
‘Who would it be anyway?’ Ed asked after a moment. They all looked at each other. George fiddled with the ring pull on his can, trying not to notice how full and pink Alistair’s lower lip was.  
‘Leighton, of course; he’s the boss-man,’ Guy chuckled as James rolled his eyes pushing his hair back.  
‘We’re not at boarding school now, you animals,’ he grunted.  
‘I’ll do it,’ Alistair said softly. A profound silence fell; charging the air as though the room had taken a deep in-breath.  
‘He should do two, since Milo isn’t here,’ Guy muttered watching Alistair sideways, ‘one for each new member.’ The two boys regarded one another. George could feel the air spark where their eyes met then Alistair gave a small shrug. Ed whooped: ‘right, how we going to pick the second?’  
‘Lady Luck,’ Guy grinned, producing a dog-eared pack of cards to general murmurs of agreement.  
‘You ain’t dealing, mate,’ Harry growled, taking in the cards from him, ‘you fucking count.’ To this Guy gave his best incredulous expression.  
‘Let Leighton do it, he’s out of the running anyhow,’ Ed suggested and the cards were handed over.  
‘What are aces?’ Toby asked. James sucked his lip: ‘aces high,’ he decided and dealt each a single card. George put his hand over his ready to flip it.  
‘No hard feelings, boys,’ Guy snickered and they all turned up there cards. George blinked down at his; ace of Spades. Dimitri burst out laughing showing George’s card to Guy, who cracked up too.  
‘Hasn’t dried up has it?’ Guy smirked groping George affectionately as he was manhandled to sit on the sofa besides James, who wrapped an arm around him.  
‘You okay?’ he murmured as the rest of the chattering flock retrieved an unresisting Alistair.  
‘Fine, ta,’ George smiled, ‘and you?’ James gave him an assessing look touching him gently under the chin.  
‘I’m about to be,’ James snorted, stretching the arm around George along the back of the sofa. Alistair was brought by Guy and Dimitri to sit between James’ legs.  
‘Give me that cushion, Harry,’ Guy said holding out a hand then, having received the cushion, stuffed it in under Alistair’s knees.  
Though Alistair was sitting close James hadn’t touched him yet; he wasn’t even looking at him. Harry perched on the arm of the sofa, while Toby sat down beside George and Ed flopped behind him on the button-back. George felt Guy sit at his back and could see Dimitri next to him behind James. When everyone seemed to have settled, James allowed his eyes to meet Alistair’s at last. For a moment they beheld each other, then Alistair licked his mouth coyly and George could hear someone stifle a laugh. He sat forward running his hands up James’ thighs before undoing his trousers. The arm at George’s back tightened when Alistair took James’ cock into his mouth. There was a general intake of breath but then quiet. So much quiet that all George could hear were wet, sticky sounds of Alistair’s mouth punctuated with James’ soft exhales. James had his eyes closed, head tipped back almost in Dimitri’s lap, mouth open showing the deep pink interior. He was hot everywhere they were touching, which was most of George’s right side. Alistair was snuggled in so close it was forcing James to spread his legs wider to accommodate his shoulders. George shifted hooking James’ knee over his, forcing the other to tilt his hips up. He panted, pale eyelashes flickering; gripping the hair at the back of George’s head, like he doing to Alistair. George forced himself to look away from Alistair’s curly hair clutched between James’ long fingers. He ran his eyes over the others; Harry had his phone out filming as did Ed, he saw when he glanced over his shoulder.  
‘That isn’t fair!’ he protested, snatching at the phone behind him as Ed dodged.  
‘Relax, won’t you?’ Ed chuckled, patting his shoulder soothingly.  
‘It doesn’t matter if you can’t see his face,’ Harry added.  
‘But it’s private,’ George muttered tightly. James shifted, eyes flickering open: ‘put it away.’  
‘Well if it’s presidential orders,’ Ed grumbled.  
‘Yes, it fucking is,’ James gasped. The phones went away. James stretched voluptuously closing his eyes and letting his head roll loose on his neck. Expectant quiet settled again. As he watched the small movements of Alistair’s head, George could feel a tremble spreading up his thighs; skin oversensitive against the fabric of his trousers. George pulled loose his velvet bowtie, he was beginning to perspire; a combination of James’ blanketing body heat and the sex heavy on the air. He let his head flop on James’ shoulder and the hand that had been pulling his hair caressed his throat absently. James was panting unevenly; George guessed he was close, hips rolling on reflex while his other hand kept Alistair tightly in place. It was only another minute before James gasped sharply twisting up his hips. Alistair jerked back choking to raucous laughter.  
‘Sorry, mate,’ James apologised with a slight quaver, pulling a handkerchief from his sleeve. Alistair accepted it wiping his mouth.  
‘Dirty bastard,’ Ed laughed as James swiped at him half-heartedly.  
‘Don’t worry, Al, Balf is gentleman,’ Guy told Alistair cheerfully, leaning over the back of the sofa to hand him an open beer. Alistair sipped it as James buttoned his fly. George could feel hands on his shoulders, rubbing and kneading gently. He tried to feel comforted by the sensation rather than trapped. Alistair was watching him now through dark eyelashes; he could feel the heat off his gaze.  
‘Ready?’ Guy murmured squeezing his shoulders. George gave a single nod, wriggling to sit up a little more. Alistair set down the can moving to kneel close to him. George tucked his chin into his chest nervously resting his elbows on his thighs.  
‘C’mon then, let him at you,’ Guy breathed in his ear, pulling him back as Alistair tugged a little at the back of his knees. James was still close to him, hot at his side. He tried to relax. Alistair’s palms felt warm and sure as they ran over his dark trousers. He squirmed involuntarily when Alistair squeezed between his legs; flushing deeply at the muffled chuckles.  
‘Do shut up,’ James grumbled, letting George hide his face in his neck. George bit his lip, he knew Guy would be rolling his eyes, but was distracted by Alistair unfastening his trousers. George lifted his head to watch him and was deeply grateful the other wasn’t looking into his face. He was touching him through his underwear, the thin fabric an unbearable barrier to the heat of Alistair’s hands. The gentle pressure of his fingertips made George’s toes curl in his woollen socks. He squirmed again and Alistair snickered.  
‘Don’t be cruel,’ James told him, though he sounded amused. Alistair glanced at him sideways raising his eyebrows then flicked his eyes to George, who flushed. Alistair sucked his bottom lip.  
‘Do you like that?’ he murmured softly, slipping a single finger under the fabric caressing. George shivered; it was like he could feel every ridge and swirl of his fingerprint. Alistair pulled back the fabric with deliberate ease before taking hold of his cock with one hand. All the air in the room seemed to have evaporated, leaving George to suck in the remainder in short pants. Alistair rubbed him inattentively, pulling down until it was almost painful then letting go again. George swallowed eyes rolling back.  
‘Don’t be a cunt,’ he gasped, when Alistair repeated the motion. Deep amused chuckles. Alistair looked into his eyes. This time George looked back; thinking his face really was too serious for someone so young. He smiled shifting on his knees, planting his hands firmly on George’s thighs to push himself up until they were nose to nose. Alistair lent into him, until his back was against the sofa, before sinking down fluidly into his lap. He let himself melt against James, lightheaded. He watched Alistair under his eyelashes, kissing and licking at him lightly, wondering how his heartbeat had moved into his lower belly. He could feel Alistair’s crown pressing against his stomach then the fullness of his lips and tiniest brush of an incisor against heated skin. Alistair’s mouth was a moist velvet cave. George was vaguely aware of giving a low animal moan as the walls of cave undulated around him. Alistair was still holding his thighs, drawing him closer as he sank down. George stared at the tendons in back of his neck, flexing with each small movement that threaten to white out his vision. He could feel the pliable roughness of Alistair’s tongue contrasted with the smooth firmness of his pallet. Alistair suddenly changed angle, tilting his head until George could feel his chin pressing into his thigh. George felt the tip of his penis hit something slick but unyielding. The sensation sent a jolt up his spine making the muscles clench in his thighs. Alistair swallowed and George could feel the contraction spread outwards leaving every limb trembling. He could feel his climax spark and expand in his pelvis like a supernova before it consumed him. As Alistair swallowed again George tried to push him back by the shoulders to save him another mouthful of spunk. It was too late however, and for the second time that evening Alistair sat back coughing; resting his knuckles against his lips as he swallowed. George watched him feeling a visceral satisfaction. Alistair looked back unapologetic.  
‘Savage,’ Guy murmured, ‘are you okay, mate?’ Alistair nodded, scratching the back of his neck. The heavy atmosphere dissipated; Toby got up stretching while Ed and Harry compared footage, Dimitri and Guy began teasing James. General chatter resumed and George tided himself up before slipping into James’ tiny bathroom. He pissed, eyes closed, leaning his forehead against the mirrored cabinet above the loo. The cool surface was soothing; he tried to ignore the phantom sensation of Alistair’s mouth on him.  
‘George?’ said a voice softly behind him. He flinched turning his head sharply; Alistair was leant against the doorframe. George inclined his head. Alistair bit his lip watching him as he continued his ablutions in silence.  
‘I don’t do that a lot,’ he said stiffly, looking at the black and white titles, ‘just, just so you know. I don’t.’  
‘Right,’ George agreed.  
‘I never do things like that really,’ he added, twisting his hands together. George took pity on him.  
‘It’s not you,’ he explained offhand, looking at Alistair’s pale reflection, ‘it’s the club. The you here isn’t the real you.’ Alistair stared at him.  
‘How can you think like that?’ he murmured, not accusatory but curious.  
‘How else can you be?’ George shrugged; expertly retying his bowtie in the mirror and flattening out his pockets.  
‘You don’t like that person that you are here,’ Alistair whispered. It wasn’t a question. George met his dark eyes in the mirror. A moment later Ed and Toby crashed into the tiny space and bundled them back into the main room.


End file.
